Victims
by OoKaixChanoO
Summary: A bullet, a scream, and then he wakes up. Don/Charlie, incest.


**A/N:** This is but a random idea which came to me while listening to Lacuna Coil. This story is set after Season 1 ends but before Season 2 starts.

 **Warnings:** Slash / Incest / Slight Disturbing Content. Read at your own discretion.

* * *

They've been hunting their latest suspect for weeks and now they know his location. They move in position, covering each exit, leaving no blind spot unprotected, and break down the door. It's eerily quiet; warning bells go off in Don's head as he takes in the area. Blood spatters on the walls, various tools for torture are thrown about as if they're nothing but old toys, and a photo album lies open.

Terry moves towards it and looks at its contents, a sick look etching its way on her face. "His victims," she says, putting on gloves and closing it. "I'll inspect the area," she tells her boss, and with that phrase uttered, she leaves with a handful of agents to do so.

Don enters a room once he's done his preliminary search, eyes widening once he takes in what's on the other side of soundproof glass. Charlie's there, tied up, electrical burns on his wrists and whip marks on his chest and arms. One of his eyes is bruised and to Don, his brother looks to be the picture of a dead man.

"You failed to protect those men," the perpetrator's voice comes, low and menacing. "They didn't mean anything to you; they were simply pictures and words on paper, weren't they?"

"What do you want?" Don asks, trying to make it so his voice doesn't crack. It's a hard thing to accomplish when your little brother's beaten and bloody in front of your eyes.

"I want you to stop me. You couldn't find me earlier, so now I'm making it so you'll have to," the man replies, coming in view. He's wearing all black, but it doesn't distract from the gun in his hand. "Say goodbye to your innocent little Charlie."

All Don can do is scream as a bullet enters his brother's brain and puts an end to his life.

-v-

He bolts up in bed, a loud cry ripping out of his throat. The same nightmare. It's happened every day for the past two weeks and horrifies Don each time it occurs. One of his hands reach out, tension bleeding out of his body when he comes in contact with a warm, familiar body. _He's alive. I didn't get him killed._

A shaky breath escapes him before the shakes start. The last case hit him harder than most, mostly because the victims bore a striking resemblance to his brother. The killer, once caught, confessed he was a former student of Charlie's and wanted the mathematician to notice him. When he never did, he flew in a rage and murdered anyone who bore the same features as Charlie, whether it was curly hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, or a combination of those things.

"Donnie?" Charlie's sleepy voice echoes in the darkness, slim arms wrapping around him. "The nightmare?" he questions, but Don bets Charlie knows the answer to it.

"Yeah, just…" He pauses. "Dammit. If we hadn't caught him, I'm sure he would have escalated to killing you. I can't… I can't bare the thought of losing you."

Charlie wraps his arms tighter around his elder brother, pressing an achingly domestic kiss to Don's neck. "Shh. Try not to think of it. You stopped him and I'm alive. I'd say you did a pretty good job, bro."

The agent closes his eyes for a few moments before turning around in Charlie's arms and resting his head against his lover's neck. "This time. There could be a next time and maybe I-"

"No negative thoughts like that. It's my job to worry about the probabilities. You're the macho FBI agent who uses his brawn instead of his brains."

Don laughs a little, the joke amusing him more than he thought it would. "Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now it's established, so go to sleep."

"Yes sir."

"Sir?" Charlie snorts. "That's a new one. Think you could call me that next time you fuck me?"

"It could be arranged," Don whispers, biting on Charlie's neck lightly before curling against his little brother. "Goodnight, Chuck."

"Don't call me that," Charlie groans, but he wraps his arms around him regardless. "Night, Don."

For the rest of the night, Don doesn't have any more nightmares.

* * *

 _ **Fin.**_


End file.
